


Twilight Funzone

by BloodBr0thers



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: A lil swearing, Gen, Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej Friendship, Shane madej loves his pal, ryan bergara loves his pal, vague description of essentially a panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodBr0thers/pseuds/BloodBr0thers
Summary: While filming for Unsolved, the boys manage to get themselves trapped in the basement of an old and supposedly cursed house.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	Twilight Funzone

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second fic in the Unsolved fandom and it’s something I’ve been meaning to write for ages! Hopefully it doesn’t seem too out of character or anything.
> 
> A quick tw for panic attacks. I know I’ve mentioned it in the tags but I just want to get it across here better. It’s about a paragraph long towards the middle section. It’s not massively in-depth or on going, but I want to mention it anyway just in case. There’s also swearing.
> 
> Please excuse any spelling, punctuation or grammar mistakes. Although I’ve proofread and then proofread again, it’s probably not perfect but it’s half two in the morning and I’m tired lmao.
> 
> As always your comments and kudos are always really appreciated!! And so is constructive criticism!!

Ryan should’ve known, admittedly, that listening to Shane would’ve ended in disaster. He was big enough, old enough, and sensible enough to know his own mind and make his own decisions, but the moment it came to Shane apparently all that didn’t apply. The moment his friend had opened his mouth, and somehow managed to convince Ryan into following him into the darkest, most scariest looking basement, Ryan knew he’d messed up.

The door had slammed shut behind them, making the already small space feel even smaller, and at first Ryan had thought nothing of it. He was too busy laughing at Shane, who was almost bent completely over in an effort to not hit his head, using it as a secret distraction to stop himself from shitting his pants. The building above had supposedly been haunted by witches, and apparently from what Ryan had read during his research, they’d left curses on and around every square inch of the building, and although witches weren’t quite demons, he was still feeling somewhat similar to how he’d felt in the Sallie house. Watched and followed, invisible hands dancing lightly over every inch of him.

Once they’d investigated everywhere, made jokes in every room and took audio recordings in the supposedly more active parts of the house, Ryan had gingerly mentioned a basement. Shane’s eyes had lit up, a mixture of pure excitement and glee washing over his sleepy expression, leading Ryan to realise he’d immediately fucked up. Of course Shane was going to want to go downstairs, just another part of the house for him to mock and belittle.

“C’mon, Ryan,” Shane had said, nodding towards the door that led to the basement. “It’ll be fine, you said there’s nothing down there.”

“I don’t know, man.” Ryan had replied, rocking nervously on his feet. “There’s supposed to be shit covering this entire place. I don’t really wannabe pissing off any witches.”

Shane had scoffed, predictably. Waving a hand through the air carelessly. “Nah, I reckon it’ll be fine.”

Ryan had laughed shakily. “That’s it, huh? Are you not even slightly bothered, like, at all?”

“Nope.” Shane had said, shrugging his shoulders casually. “So, we going down or what?”

“I’m still not sure, dude.” Ryan had admitted, looking away briefly.

Shane’s demeanour had changed then. His face relaxing into something soft and meaningful, his expression working to fit Ryan’s mood. He’d reached out and patted Ryan on the shoulder gently.

“Don’t worry, bud,” he’d reassured. “We won’t stay down there long. Couple of minutes—five, tops. We’ll be fine.”

Ryan had nodded, took a deep breath and turned his camera on ready. Actually descending down the stairs took a little encouragement, a quick, barely noticeable pat on the back from Shane and suddenly he’d felt invincible, starting down the stairs with renewed courage. In the end, things hadn’t actually seemed too bad. It wasn’t as dark as Ryan had originally thought, and there wasn’t any creepy markings covering the walls like he’d imagined. It was just your average basement, if anything the ceiling was just a bit too low—something that Shane pointed out numerous times. 

Before he knew it, their time was up and they were free to go. Shane had given Ryan a small smile, a nod of the head in acknowledgment of Ryan’s achievement—he knew how much places like this freaked him out, and Shane was always there for him when it came to timed challenges, a surprisingly reassuring presence despite what viewers saw on the final product.

“Time to go, Ryan,” said Shane for the camera. “I’m sure you’re really going to miss this place once you’re out.”

Ryan laughed, a mixture of relief and adrenaline tainting his voice. “Absolutely fucking not.” He waved his hand in the general direction of stairs. “Dude, let’s get out of here.”

Feeling all kinds of uneasy and extremely ready to leave, they headed back up the stairs, cameras still rolling to capture the final shot of them leaving. 

“Hey, man,” said Shane from in front of him, “you did great. You’re a real trooper.”

“Aw, hey, thanks, man.” Ryan replied, nudging his taller friend with his elbow, adopting a similar tone.

“No problem, buddy.” Replied Shane, elbowing him right back. “What’s a pal for, after all?”

Shane reached the top of the stairs first, his back still hunched in what must’ve been an increasingly uncomfortable position. Ryan waited just a step below, not wanting to wait too far back, the twisted part of his mind running away with visions of something coming after him from the abyss below. He tapped his foot as he waited for Shane to open the door, his anxiousness steadily building back up the longer he had to wait.

“Strange,” muttered Shane, more to himself than anyone else. Ryan’s ears immediately pricked up, his nerves starting to get the better of him once again. He desperately wanted out. 

“What’s up?” Asked Ryan.

“Oh,” Shane’s tone was casual, if a little forced. “It’s just, y’know, the doors not really opening.”

“Shane,” Ryan said, pausing his camera. “Stop fucking around. It’s not funny, okay? I really want to leave.” 

“Yeah, hah,” Shane was sheepish almost, pushing his voice to stay neutral before abandoning the approach altogether. “I’m not fucking around, alright. The door seriously won’t open.”

Ryan swiftly deserted his position on the stairs and joined his friend on the top step. Shane fumbled to pause his own camera, pocketing it quickly afterwards. He caught Ryan’s eye and threw up his hands.

“It’s not me, dude! I promise.”

“Hold this,” said Ryan, forcing his camera into Shane’s grip, “I’ll try. Maybe it’s just your noodle arms.”

Relentlessly, Ryan threw his full weight against the door, trying desperately to get the damn thing open. The wood creaked after each attempt, barely audible over Ryan’s accompanying curses. When he finally gave up, some ten, twenty attempts later, he was sweaty and heaving heavy breaths.

“So that must’ve been what happened when the door slammed, huh?” Said Shane, in a voice that Ryan considered to be far too calm and rational for the situation. 

“Is that really all you can say?” Ryan asked, his voice pitched a few octaves higher than normal. “We’re stuck, dude! 

“I know,” barked Shane, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. “Just trying to ease the tension a little. Last thing we need to do is panic.”

But Ryan already was. He knew it was unlikely they’d be stuck down there for long, the logical part of his brain had already supplied that, there were plenty of people who would come looking for them, but it didn’t matter. It was exactly the last place he wanted to spend any length of time, at all. Long, medium, short—it didn’t matter, Ryan Bergara didn’t want to be there. Letting out a slightly hysterical shout, he threw himself against the door one final time.

“Oh, look.” Said Shane, disregarding Ryan’s sudden outburst in pursuit of something else.

Ryan turned his torch to where Shane was pointing, just at the bottom of the stairs, hissing immediately when the light reflected back at him as it bounced off something shiny. He blinked, clearing the spots from his eyes as he watched Shane disappear back down the stairs, bending over and picking up the object at the bottom. When he realised what his friend was holding it felt like the floor had been swept out from under him.

“Please tell me that’s not the doorknob.” Ryan said, his free hand coming up to cover his eyes like if he couldn’t see it, it wouldn’t be happening. “Shane, buddy, I really mean it. Please tell me that’s not the fucking doorknob.”

“It’s not the doorknob?” 

“It’s the doorknob, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

That seemed to push Ryan over the edge. He suddenly felt his chest constrict, his breath catching in his throat. His palms became clammy and his already slick forehead started to bead with another layer of sweat. Blood began rushing in his ears and suddenly the room felt smaller than ever, the walls feeling like they were moving inwards trying to suffocate him steadily. 

“Whoa, Ryan,” Shane was quickly by his side, hands hovering over him nervously. “You alright?”

Ryan couldn’t talk. It felt as if his own body was physically stopping him taking in air. He managed to gulp in what he could, but it wasn’t enough. Ryan felt as if he was drowning, waves in the variety of anxious and overwhelmed washing over him, pushing him further and further down each time.

“Look, Ry,” started Shane, all hunched over and angled awkwardly, “I’m going to touch you, okay? Ryan, is that okay?”

Ryan just about managed to choke out his consent before Shane was steadily, gently using his shoulders to help sit him down, the two of them squeezing themselves onto the top step of the stairs. Shane’s knees up somewhere near his ears.

“You need to breathe, Ryan.” Explained Shane, patiently, calmly. “Okay? Can you do that?”

Ryan nodded, and Shane smiled reassuringly. “Good. Copy me, got it? In through your nose and then out through your mouth.”

Shane started going through the motions as a demonstration. He’d breathe steadily once through his nose, and then gently release that same breath through his mouth. Ryan followed along on the next breath, using Shane to regulate and time his breathing, slowly but surely evening out his erratics breaths. The knot in his chest lessened, loosening up before eventually unraveling itself entirely. The walls didn’t feel so close anymore, and the deafening sound of rushing blood faded from his ears. 

“Th-thanks,” Ryan panted, after the whole ordeal was over and he finally caught a proper breath. “I don’t know what that was.”

Shane waved him off, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s nothing, buddy. Used to happen to me occasionally when I was younger, back in college.”

Ryan nodded, shaking out his hands. He’d been clenching his fists the entire time, digging his nails into his flesh without even realising it. He took a couple more deep breaths, savouring the feeling of actually being able to take air to his lungs, and then stood up in an attempt to test his legs. They felt shaky but supported him enough to stand. 

“Careful,” said Shane, standing up himself, “you might be a little wobbly.”

Ryan nodded and smiled, trying to project the same soothing expression Shane usually reserved for him onto his own face. Ryan felt mostly fine, tired and absolutely ready to get out of the cramped, damp smelling hellhole of a basement they were stuck in, but mostly fine. His friend didn’t say anything else, but Ryan could tell he understood. 

“So,” he said, feeling a little lost as to what to do next, “what should we do?”

Shane laughed, albeit a tad nervously. “I have no idea. I’m pretty useless when it comes to most things Do It Yourself. What about you?”

Ryan wasn’t the worst when it came to flatpack furniture, and had found it easy enough to put together most things in his apartment. How difficult could a doorknob be? 

“Wonder if any of these witches owned any tools, huh?” Shrugged Ryan. 

Shane laughed, brash and bold this time, obviously reassured that Ryan wasn’t going to start choking up again. “Yeah-ah! Bet they were fucking great at DIY. Hammering in nails to hang up their witchy shit everywhere.”

They both laughed, things falling back into place easily. Shane handed Ryan the doorknob, a surprisingly heavy object with an interestingly ornate pattern engraved all over its shiny spherical shape. He traced it with his thumb, mulling it over as he decided what to do.

“You got any signal down here?” 

“No.” 

“Figured.”

“Think we could shout?” Asked Shane.

Ryan laughed but shook his head, “I don’t think anyone would hear us, dude. We’re miles out.”

Shane hummed in agreement. He ducked lower, wincing as his back obviously protested. Ryan felt a pang of sympathy, and for once appreciated being the smaller one in their friendship. He scuffed his feet idly, wracking his brain for ideas. 

“We could pick the lock?” Suggested Shane, worrying his bottom lip as he looked between the door and Ryan.

He weighed it up, turning over the idea in his head. Ryan couldn’t see why it wouldn’t work. It was more how they would carry it out that would be the issue. Plus, he had no idea how to do it. He’d heard all about how surprisingly difficult it was from plenty of people, especially during college when his friends had attempted to do it drunk. 

“Could you do it?” Asked Ryan, raising a brow. “Apparently, it’s harder than it looks”

“Ah-ha! just leave it to me.” 

“Are you sure?”

Shane just tapped the side of his nose, winking. Ryan shook his head in mock exasperation and watched as Shane stepped forward to examine the lock. What was still attached to the door was simple looking, and from a first glance it didn’t look like it should be too difficult. Then again, that was just Ryan’s assessment—he wasn’t really sure.

“So…how do you know how to do this?” Asked Ryan. 

“College,” replied Shane, not looking away. “I also taught myself how to do it so I could break into my brothers room. Ha, he hated it.” 

“Shit, no way,” said Ryan, an obvious sarcastic tone colouring his voice. “You just couldn’t be tamed, damn.”

“Oh, absolutely. I was rouge.”

“And what did you use, y’know, when you decided to pick all these locks?”

“Paperclips, mom’s hair clips, a bit of straightened out metal. Small, fiddly stuff.”

Ryan nodded, humming. Shane stepped away then, rubbing at his chin like a cartoon character in thought. Ryan watched, waiting for the moment of truth to arrive. 

“I’ve an idea,” Shane posed. “But I don’t think anyone is going to like it back at the company.” 

“You mean Buzzfeed?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Asked Ryan, already dreading the outcome. 

“Well, I was thinking we dismantle some of this gear,” started Shane, “we’ll find something small enough to use.”

Ryan could see the logic but he wasn’t sure how they were going to do it. They had two cameras on them, and the handheld holders that they used to shoot them. They were simple looking pieces of kit on the outside, but Shane was probably right in thinking that one of the inside components could be small and fiddly enough to work.

“How would we get into them?” Said Ryan, looking at where Shane had quickly strewn them so he could help earlier. 

“Drop it?” 

“Really?”

“What other option is there?”

“Good point.” 

It felt wrong throwing around company property, and although it was an oddly liberating experience getting to break stuff, Ryan couldn’t help but cringe as he watched Shane drop the handheld down the stairs. They repeated this process four times before they finally heard the clattering of multiple pieces.

“That’s done the trick,” said Ryan, “sounded like quite a bit came off it.”

“Let’s hope.” Said Shane somewhat grimly.

Ryan shone his torch down the stairs, cutting through the darkness so Shane could see where he was going, in an attempt to rescue what he could. He came back up with five pieces in his hands. 

“Bingo!” He said, pulling out a small piece of metal from one of the bigger sections. 

Ryan whooped, feeling a wash of pure relief come over him. He stepped back and out the way, as not to crowd Shane as he started to fiddle with the lock. He shone his torch over his friends head to help, and could feel a steady trickle of adrenaline start to enter his system.

“Almost…aaaalmost,” mumbled Shane, wiggling the metal round, before suddenly a small clunking noise sounded and the door swung open. 

“You did it!” 

“I did it!”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Ryan shouted excitedly, physically pushing Shane in an attempt to get out first. “I fucking hate everything about this house. I wanna go.”

Shane laughed, exiting through the door in a jumble of limbs. He stretched out his back and a few audible cracks could be heard. “Jesus, that feels good.” 

The moment they got outside, Ryan nearly threw himself onto the nearest patch of grass. There was so much space and the air felt clean and actually breathable. The evening air was warm against his skin, and he suddenly realised how cold it had been inside the basement when the humidity hit him.

“There’s so much room to move!” Shouted Shane, stretching his long arms out sideways. “I’m no longer bent over like I’m ninety, holy shit.”

Ryan laughed almost hysterically. Shane continued to stretch out beside him, making the most of the space himself. The sky above them was clear and stars could be seen for miles across the inky black. It was about then that Ryan realised he was still holding onto the doorknob. He looked up and then looked down at the object in his hands, exhaling harshly through his nose. 

“C’mon,” said Shane, finishing his stretching with one final crack of his back. “we should be going. We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.” 

Ryan sighed, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Shane turned and started walking away while Ryan gave the lonely house one final looking over. He shivered despite the warm air. He decided there and then he’d never venture into another basement again, not if he could help it. And as for the doorknobs, he’ll definitely be sticking to handles in the future.


End file.
